Next Level
by Madame Batolli
Summary: The fourth tournament's over, but that doesn't mean things're back to how they should be just yet. Hwoarang's on his way home, and Xiaoyu's wondering whether she should tell him that she got his letters after all, even the one he didn't mean to send.
1. Glitter

_A/N: Hi again! This little two-shot was already partially written before I finished Never Ever, the reason it hasn't been posted earlier is mostly due to laziness (sorry guys!) and partly due to me getting distracted by another project I'm working on. But considering it's probably going to be the last part of this 'series' if that's the right thing to call it, I wanted to dust it off, clean it up and share it with everyone who's followed Monochrome and Never Ever. Part two is still in the dusting off stage, but I really hope you enjoy this first part, and as always, I'd be super grateful to hear your comments._

* * *

**NEXT LEVEL**

* * *

_Today let's search  
__For the road that leads to the place we dreamed of._

_**Chapter 1: Glitter**_

"It's about time that idiot got back," Miharu says, handing me a bottle of water with one hand and not nearly enough change with the other. "Gotta say, I've almost missed him."

We're sitting in the airport, waiting for Hwoarang's flight to arrive (hence the way overpriced drinks) and no, I am not in the slightest bit nervous, why do you ask?

Okay, maybe I _am_ a little nervous. Fine. But it isn't like I don't have a good reason considering the last time I saw him, he was in handcuffs, and argh, that really didn't come out right. He was being escorted into military custody, okay? I've spoken to him on the phone a few times since then, but the conversation's been kinda stilted on my side. Come _on_ though, how else is it gonna be when we're supposed to be best friends and then I find out from a drunken letter he wrote while he was in the army that he sort of... I dunno... has _feelings_ for me?

At first, I had no idea what to do or think, and I figured I'd just do what he said in the letter he sent straight after. Sweep it under the carpet, forget about it. Besides, he doesn't even know I got _any_ of his letters, so it's not like I need to bring it up. Ever. But for some reason, I can't make myself forget. I keep reading the letters back, going over all my memories of us to try and pinpoint where it started, thinking of all the things he said or did that might have been an attempt to make me see how he felt, all the things that went sailing straight over my head. All the times I wouldn't shut up about Jin.

With hindsight and a clear head, I can see what the thing with Jin was. An infatuation with this mysterious, gorgeous boy that showed up one morning at school and dragged me headfirst into the weirdest two years of my life. Up until then my life had been schoolwork and shopping and arguing with Hwo and gossiping with Miharu, and the most exciting things that ever happened usually related to a new episode of whatever TV series I was obsessed with. Either that or a new music video from my favourite band. After I met Jin, it was all strange powers, weird visions, demonic curses, and getting my ass kicked.

It was like some kind of messed up fairytale. Jin was the tortured hero, and I... well, as embarrassing as it is to admit it, I was the naive girl, determined to set him free. And I loved him, I really did. But more than anything else, I think I was in love with the idea of being everything to him, being the one who saved him. I had this silly, romantic dream that I could free him from Devil's curse and we'd live happily ever after. But in the end, it turned out that was never really a possibility.

Maybe 'fairytale' isn't the right way to describe it. Fairytales're supposed to have happy endings, right?

Enough with the melodramatics. The point is, even though my dream of being happy with Jin could never come true, that doesn't mean I can't fulfil the other dreams I have. The ones for my _own_ future.

It's been over two months since the end of the tournament, and I've been working towards making those dreams happen, which in this instance means studying like crazy so that I can pass the university entrance exams. I've tried my best to lose myself in my studies, but there's two obstacles in my way. For one, I've never really been the studious type, not even when it comes to super important exams, and for another (and I kinda can't believe I'm admitting this because I'm supposed to have grown up a little bit) I just can't Hwoarang out of my head. It's so stupid. I mean, it's _Hwoarang!_ Sure, I suppose he's a decent guy, even though he hides it exceptionally well. And yeah, he's good-looking. If you like that kinda scruffy rebel thing he's got going on. Which I didn't. Don't. Ugh. Whatever.

Miharu's noticed how distracted I've been, and she's taken to either sighing at me and fixing me with her best pitying look, or launching into her 'you really need to get over Jin and move on' speech, which I could probably quote word for word if you asked me to. But I'd rather sit through that than tell her what the real issue is, 'cause knowing Miharu she'd find the whole thing hilarious and never let either me or Hwo live it down.

Anyway, it's probably just some kind of 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' type of thing. You know, some sort of temporary lapse of judgement? A perfectly natural response to finding out he might uh... you know. I bet when I see him again he'll make one of his stupid comments and all these ridiculous feelings'll go flying out the window, and we'll be just like we were before.

"Hey, looks like they're here!" Miharu cries, grabbing my wrist and dragging me along with her through the throng of passengers that have just entered the arrival lounge. I catch a glimpse of Hwoarang and Baek up ahead of us, and Miharu carries on jostling her way through until we reach them, elbowing people out of the way and yelling out 'excuse me' and 'sorry' left and right before letting go of my hand to throw her arms around Hwoarang. What was that she said about _almost_ missing him?

I stumble to a stop behind her, trying to tidy my hair up and ignore the fact that the sight of him's sent my heart hammering. Not that I'm not happy to see him again, regardless, but... well, I'm kind of confused about how to act around him now.

"It's good to see you again, Xiaoyu." Baek tells me, touching the brim of his hat, and I put my bag down, grateful for the distraction.

"You too!" I smile, bowing clumsily, and joy bubbles up inside me as I take in the sight of him. After he disappeared, I couldn't help but think the worst had happened, so it was a shock to hear Hwo say that Baek had been the one to bail him out of military prison. Although Hwo tried to sound casual when he told me, his relief and happiness shone straight through, even over the phone, and I felt the same.

"It's been ages." I comment.

"It has."

I wait expectantly for a further explanation, but Baek simply gestures in Hwoarang's direction and says, "I should offer my thanks for keeping this one out of trouble while I was gone."

Even though I've known him for as long as I've known Hwoarang, I still find it hard to tell whether Baek's being sarcastic or not. I decide to take it as a compliment, even though it couldn't be further from the truth. I'm still curious about what exactly happened to him to keep him away for so long, but I don't press the matter. I didn't ask Hwoarang either, just like he didn't ask me what happened after he got hauled off by the soldiers and I headed for Hon-Maru alone. I guess we can both have a bit of tact if we _really_ try.

"Jeez, look at your hair!" Miharu's laughing, and me and Baek glance over to see her tugging at Hwo's messy spikes with one hand, the other arm still wrapped around his neck in a death grip. "Sorry Hwo, but it _so_ doesn't suit you. You need to grow it back."

My chest tightens at the sight of them together. Dammit. It's not like they're doing anything wrong, and it's not like Miharu's not touchy-feely with everyone anyway, but I'm starting to get irritable despite the fact that I shouldn't even care. I guess it must show on my face because Hwoarang gives me a quizzical look and Miharu disentangles herself from him.

"Sorry, Xiao, didn't mean to keep him to myself," she says, amused. "He's all yours now."

"Don't worry, Mi," Hwo laughs as I open my mouth to protest, "She knows I've always been all hers."

Okay. That _really_ doesn't help.

God knows how, but I manage to plaster on a bright smile. Okay, Xiao. Act normal. Neutral, even. Indifferent. It's not _that _long since we last saw each other, so I can get away with not hugging him, right?

"Welcome back." I say coolly, but I can't help but fiddle with the label on the water bottle I'm holding.

"Did you know that pulling labels off stuff is supposed to be a sign of sexual frustration?" Hwo asks Miharu casually. Baek turns to stare out of the massive windows, watching a plane glimmering in the sunlight as it rolls down the runway, and I try and follow his example.

"If you need any help with that, Xiao, you know where I am..." Hwo continues, and a blush crawls up my neck.

"Shut _uuuuup_." I whine, jamming the bottle into my bag. Oh,_ very_ slick, Xiao. I mentally kick myself for not being better prepared for his stupid comments. Especially considering how often he makes them.

"Stop moaning and c'mere, kiddo," He's holding his arms out, and I only hesitate for a moment before giving in. If I don't hug him, then he really will know something's wrong.

Okay. Seems being in his arms does weird things to my stomach now. That's new.

Hwoarang tightens his grip, rests his chin on the top of my head, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath as pins and needles rush though me and my heart quickens, and goddammit, I thought I'd grown out of this. What am I, thirteen?

He looks confused at how fast I pull away, and from the corner of my eye I can see Miharu giving me a contemplative look, but I force another smile and pick up my bag.

"Can we go get something to eat?" I ask. "All I've had is half a pack of mints and some chocolate all day, I'm seriously starving."

* * *

"You're hopeless, Xiao, you know that?" Miharu tells me.

It's approaching evening and we're lounging in my room, the TV playing to itself. After we got back from the airport, Mi invited herself to stay over at mine, assuring her mother that we'd be comparing study notes and drawing up a new revision timetable. Of course, _that_ hasn't happened, and we've spent the afternoon watching music videos and sharing gossip about whichever star pops up. Pretty much typical for us, but then came the teasing look, and then the comment about me being hopeless, and now we're in talking-about-guys territory. I'm surprised it took her this long to bring it up, to be honest.

"Why am I?"

She sits upright on the bed, combing her fingers through her hair. She's been growing it for a while now, and it's at that annoying in-between stage where it doesn't quite reach her shoulders. She keeps complaining about how it looks a mess when she tries to put it up in a ponytail and she can't use the curling iron without burning her head.

"I figured all that fuss this morning was in case there were any cute guys at the airport." She fixes me with a knowing look. "Didn't know it was all for one guy in _particular._"

"What fuss?" I ignore the last part, trying to sound nonchalant, but Mi's having none of it.

"Come on, Xiao, you changed your outfit about fifty times, and then you were moaning that your hair looked stupid so you had to spend like, ten hours straightening it, and then right when I thought we were ready you decided to take all your makeup off and start _again_!"

"Well it didn't look right!" I say defensively, and Miharu laughs, flopping forward onto her stomach and resting her chin on her hands.

"And since when do you care that _Hwo_ might see you looking less than perfect?"

"Why do you think it was for his benefit?"

"Right, sorry, it was all for Baek." she deadpans. "Why do you keep answering my questions with questions anyway? You _like_ him, don't you?"

"As if! That's the stupidest thing I've heard in ages!"

I laugh and shake my head, trying to look suitably amused at such a ridiculous comment, but she's not discouraged in the slightest.

"Did something happen with him at the tournament?" She sits up, grabbing one of my stuffed animals and squeezing it gleefully. "It did, didn't it? C'mon Xiao, spill!"

"No! Miharu, I can't believe you're asking me this! We're friends, that's all. God."

"Just friends, hm? So why were you all weird this morning?"

"Do I even have a non-weird setting?" I give the TV a nervous glance. The video for some boyband's latest single is playing. "Oh look, you like these guys. Which's the future Mr. Hirano again? The blonde one?"

"You _so_ like him," she says, completely ignoring my attempt to derail the conversation. "Wonder what he'll say when I tell him?"

"You even _dare_ and I'll strangle you!" I shriek, throwing a pillow at her, and she snags it out of the air and hugs it to her chest, grinning at me in satisfaction.

"So you _do_ like him, then."

I stare at her for a moment, then breathe a long sigh, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Great. She's never gonna let this go now.

* * *

"Okay, you're being fucking weird again, Xiao. What's that all about?"

Hwoarang's glaring at me, and for about the hundredth time, I curse Miharu for leaving me alone with him. She's been trying her best to get us in this situation every time we all meet up. It's taken her a fortnight, but she's finally managed it. And where were we when Miharu suddenly 'remembered' she had to go return a library book so she wouldn't get fined, said she wouldn't be long, then shot me a mischievous glance before she skipped off? Oh, only in Hwo's _bedroom_, that's all. How subtle.

Part of me wants to get out of here as quickly as possible, part of me wants something to happen, and the rest of me just wants to be able to just hang out with Hwo without getting all self-conscious and tense. I want to be able to have a conversation with him without stumbling over my words, to be able to just roll my eyes instead of getting embarrassed when he makes some stupid comment about sexual frustration or whatever. Plus, I can tell I'm doing his head in, but I'm too scared to try and explain what my problem is.

"Weird?" I force a smile. "How'd you mean?"

"You know _exactly_ what I mean." He's leaning over me, his hand still pressed against the door where he slammed it closed when I tried to leave, and I can feel my face getting warmer. "You've not been right with me since I came back, and it's pissing me off now. Don't tell me you're _still _mad about me ditching the army."

"It's not that..."

"Then at least tell me what the fuck I did so I can tell you why you're fucking stupid to be mad at me for it!"

An apology's halfway out of my mouth when I start to wonder why _he's_ the one who gets to be angry. He's the one who wrote those letters, he's the one who had to go confusing me, he's the one who keeps acting like he does and keeps _looking_ like he does and... _ugh. _

My temper gets the better of me and I push him backwards and scowl at him, then yank my bag off my shoulder and unzip the front pocket, pulling out the crumpled letters I've read so many times and shoving them at him. His glare fades into a questioning look, and I force the letters into his hands.

"These." I snap, my hands shaking. "These are why I'm 'being fucking weird', Hwo."

There's an excruciatingly long pause.

"...I thought you said you never got these." he says eventually, frowning at me. "Why the hell didn't you write back if you got them?"

"I _didn't _get them. Jung gave them to me when he showed up at the tournament."

Another pause.

"Oh."

His eyes scan over the letter on top, and I can see from the messier than usual handwriting that it's the one he wrote when he was drunk. He folds it up and hands it back to me, expressionless.

"So what's the problem?" He shrugs. "I remember I wrote another one saying you could ignore it. Or did you miss that part?"

"No I didn't!" I jam the letter into my jacket pocket. "And you can't seriously expect me to ignore it anyway!"

"Why not?"

"Because...! Now it's all weird!"

"Doesn't have to be weird." He flashes an easy smile. "Just pretend you never read it."

I'm so worked up that I reply without thinking.

"You think I haven't tried that? Anyway, I don't _want_ to pretend I..." Hwoarang glances at me sharply, and I trail off, my face heating up. "I mean... yeah. Okay. That works. Later, then."

This time I manage to get out of the door and halfway across the living room, stumbling over a quick goodbye to Baek before Hwoarang reappears.

"What _do_ you want to do then?" he asks as he strides over to me, his eyes narrowed. Damn him and his long legs, it makes running away _way_ more difficult.

"I-I don't know," I say, avoiding his gaze. "I mean, in the letter you said…"

I'm painfully aware of Baek's presence, even though he's turned away and politely busied himself with the TV guide. Hwoarang seems to have no problem disregarding him though, carrying on the conversation as if it's just us.

"And I meant it."

"But you were drunk, so..."

"What did I just say?" he snaps. "I meant it!"

I stare at the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Hwoarang, if... if I'd have known back in the tournament, I..."

"Well you didn't," he interrupts. "So spare me the bit where you whine about how you never shut the hell up about Kazama and you feel bad about it."

Okay, ouch. From the corner of my eye, I see Baek stiffen. He probably wants to give Hwo a lecture about having a bit of sensitivity or something. If I was feeling more like myself I'd probably be angry, but all I can think of at the moment is that it's a fair point to make.

"You know_ now_." Hwoarang carries on. "So if you don't wanna pretend you don't, then what do you wanna do about it?"

As if in response, my eyes focus on his mouth, and Hwo just stares at me. Baek clears his throat, closing the magazine and standing up.

"I suppose there's no need for television when there's a drama unfolding right in my living room," he comments. Hwoarang rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to reply, but Baek cuts him off, holding his hands up in a submissive gesture.

"As much as I'm sure you're about to offer some sort of apology, and certainly wouldn't be gearing up to say something disrespectful, I have a few errands to be getting on with." He flashes me an amused look. "It is always nice to see you, Xiaoyu."

When the door clicks closed behind him, I turn back to Hwoarang, trying to think of something to say. He stays silent for a while, long enough for me to get even more uncomfortable, as impossible as that sounds.

"I asked you a question," he says finally.

"I know."

"And?"

And? I know this is something that'll most likely change everything between us, but I step forward and rise onto my tiptoes, pressing my mouth to his and giving him the only answer that makes sense right now. It's a clumsy, tentative kiss, and I'm not brave enough to try and deepen it. I pull away quickly, face hot, looking anywhere but at Hwo.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best idea, since he didn't bother to kiss back. Sure, he didn't exactly have much time to, but…

I force myself to look at him, and he's just watching me in silence. Oh _God_. Trust me to screw things up even more than they already are. My mind starts racing to think up some sort of excuse that'd make even the teeniest amount of sense, my heart thudding almost painfully in my chest as the silence stretches on.

"...What was _that_ supposed to be?"

I stare at him, taken aback, and anger and hurt well up inside me, almost enough to overtake my embarrassment. I don't think I could feel like any more of an idiot if I tried. Thanks for that, Hwo.

"What the hell do you mean?" I growl. "Why would you even _say_ that?"

My head spins with questions; is he just jerking me around? Or is this some kind of dumb attempt at payback for the way I went on about Jin? Hwoarang's smiling now, and all I can do is look at him, utterly bewildered. He moves closer to me and I fold my arms to create a barrier between us.

"...'Cause you're too nervous." He leans forward, our mouths almost touching, and I turn my face away, still too annoyed to deal with him.

"So that's your way of making me feel better?" I demand, and his hand slips under my chin, turning me back to face him.

"Look, I was joking. I'm sorry." He grins. "Guess I should try a different way."

"Like _what_?"

It's really tough to stay annoyed while Hwo's around. For as long as we've been friends he's always been able to tease me out of whatever bad mood I'm in, even if he put me in it in the first place, but when he leans in and gives me a slow, soft kiss, it's even more difficult. It's a flaw that needs addressing, but I'm too caught up in the feel of his lips on mine to take note. I kiss back as his arms wrap around me, pressing me close to him, and my heart's racing so hard that I wonder if he can feel it. All too soon, he pulls away from me, and I somehow manage a shaky smile.

I'm fully expecting him to make some silly comment as usual, but he doesn't say anything, just smiles back at me and reaches forward to brush a hand across my cheek, spring sunlight spilling through the window behind him. For a moment, I watch him, enjoying his touch but still a little self-conscious and unsure.

Okay. Let me get my head around this. Hwoarang just kissed me. _Hwoarang_ just _kissed_ me. And I thought it'd be weird, but if anything, it felt completely natural. Funny how things turn out, huh?

"So... what was _that_ supposed to be?" I mock, more to break the tension than anything else, and he laughs, giving one of my pigtails a playful tug. I smile. Why was I even worried about it? Things haven't changed in a bad way. We're fine. I don't have to be unsure anymore.

"Hey, it was better than the first one."

"Oh yeah?" I move away from him, sit on the sofa and pick up the magazine that Baek discarded when he left. "Well I still don't feel any better, so you'll need to think of another way to make up for being nasty."

I chance a petulant glance at him over the top of the magazine, and he flashes me the sort of look that makes me realise the implication of what I just said. I quickly raise the magazine again.

"What's up?" he asks, all innocence, swiping it out of my hands. "Huh. You've gone all red, Xiao. Wonder why."

"I have _not_." I mutter, and he shakes his head with a grin, sitting beside me.

"If you say so."

"Why would I go red?"

"That's what _I_ wanna know."

I know full well he's trying to wind me up, so I don't answer, instead choosing to fix my gaze on the open window opposite. A few wisps of brilliant white cloud are slowly making their way across the sky. Hwoarang nudges me with his knee.

"Hey, did you really have no idea until you read that letter?"

I shake my head, glad of the change of subject.

"Looking back on it, I kinda should have done."

"Yeah, shame you're such a moron," he teases, and I swipe at him half-heartedly.

"Well you never _said_ anything, did you?"

"Yeah, 'cause you never let me get a word in, it was always Kazama this and Kazama that."

"Hwoarang..." I whine. "I already feel bad _enough_ about that."

"So you should." He arches an eyebrow and I go all tingly. "How're ya gonna make it up to me?"

I cast a sidelong glance at him, heart racing, and he wastes no time in pulling me into his lap, capturing my mouth with his. I wind my arms around his neck as he pulls my hair loose from the pigtails, gently running a hand through it while he kisses me, making me smile against his lips. His other hand slides down to rest on my lower back, his fingers warm against my skin. Miharu barges into the apartment a few seconds later, a cardboard cup from the coffee place (that, incidentally, happens to be on the complete opposite side of town from the library) in her hand. Figures.


	2. July 1st

_A/N: First off, thank you so much for the reviews for part one of this little two-shot. I'm glad to hear Baek was written okay in the first chapter, too, it's the first time I've written him so I'm happy that I did him justice!_

_Secondly, I just want to say that I am so grateful to you guys for reading this series. Every single review I've had since I started writing it has been so precious to me, and I've loved hearing from you all and reading your opinions on all three fics. Your enthusiasm and feedback kept me going and spurred me on to finally finish everything up. (Even though it shouldn't have taken me this long. I'm sorry! The reason it took so long for this part to get finished is because I felt like I was losing the 'voice' I write Xiaoyu with, and I wasn't happy with parts of what I'd written, so I had to redo those bits completely.)_

_And thirdly, I don't think I'll be uploading anything new now this is finished, so I wanted to make sure that you all know just how much hearing from you guys meant to me. Thank you so much. (The other project I mentioned in part one is my novel, so hopefully this isn't the last you'll hear from me!) I learned an unbelievable amount during my time writing fic, and it's all 'cause of you. Thank you for taking the time to help me through all of this._

_I really hope you like how it ends._

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**NEXT LEVEL**

* * *

_The sun shines through the clouds  
__Everything is washed away  
__By the sound of the waves coming and going.__  
_

_**Chapter 2: July 1st**_

It's a gorgeous spring morning. When my clock radio jarred me out of a dream at seven a.m, there'd been a couple of ominous looking clouds hanging around, but now they've blown away, leaving behind beautiful clear skies, warm sunlight, and the faint scent of cherry blossom on the breeze. It's the kind of weather that makes you want to grab all your friends and spend the whole day at the nearest amusement park.

Unfortunately, there's no chance of that. Today is results day, and Miharu is crying.

I'm not talking 'I'm really sad right now, but at the same time I'm in public and still kinda conscious of my appearance so I'm gonna look up and try not to blink and just dab my eyes really carefully to avoid unfortunate makeup malfunctions' crying. I'm talking the horrible, uncontrollable kind, where you're just so upset that you can't do anything to stop it. She's on one of the park benches, the crumpled tissue in her hand streaked black with mascara, an envelope lying beside her. We'd agreed to meet up and open our letters together.

"Miharu, what's…" I trail off, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Her mouth tries and fails to form words, and she shakes her head, lips trembling, her hair stuck to her face.

"Did you check your results already?" I ask, and she nods, her eyes filling with tears again. I swallow, my throat tight. "Want another tissue?"

I fumble for my bag without waiting for an answer, and Hwoarang passes it to me, saying nothing. Miharu slowly dries her eyes, taking deep breaths and staring at her feet for a few moments.

"I f-failed," she eventually manages.

"Which-"

"All of them. I failed all of them."

"But… but you studied so hard." I say lamely. I can't believe it.

"I know."

"I thought you said you had a good feeling about the last one."

"Well obviously I was _wrong_, Xiao!" she snaps, making me jump. "Check for yourself if you don't believe me!"

She throws the results slip at me and I fold it and slide it into my pocket, wanting to slap myself for being such an idiot. I just feel so helpless. I wish I knew what to say.

"That was stupid. I'm sorry. I just… I don't get it, Mi."

"And you think I do?" Miharu asks in a wobbly voice, wiping her nose with the tissue. It leaves a smudge of mascara above her top lip.

"No, I wasn't saying-"

"While you and Hwo were off training and fighting and whatever, I was working my ass off back here. Do you have any idea how many invites I turned down so I could stay home and cram for the exams? Everything's ruined, Xiao. We had plans, remember?"

"Mi, listen, don't worry about that. You can resit them, right?"

"Yeah, next _year,_" she replies, her voice rising. She's looking at me as though I'm a complete moron, and it's obvious my efforts to comfort her are falling totally flat. I've never seen her like this, not even when she broke up with her boyfriend and she was crying so much that she couldn't even speak. Back then, I just hugged her and didn't say anything. Maybe that's what I should've done today.

"You know what pisses me off the most?" she carries on. "You weren't even that interested in getting into university until Jin told you to. I've _always_ wanted to do it. So don't sit there and talk about _resits_ like it's no big deal."

"I'm not trying to make it no big deal, Miharu," I say, eyes stinging. "I'm trying to make you feel better."

She stands up, biting her lip, fighting to keep the tears back.

"Well you can't, okay? So just… just don't."

Then she turns and hurries off, and only Hwo's hand closing around mine keeps me from giving chase.

"Leave it," he says, and even though I know he's right, a sick, guilty feeling twists inside me as I watch her go. Because I couldn't do anything to help, because I'd said all the wrong things, and because I'd not been able to resist sneaking a look at my own scores before I'd set off to meet her, and I'd passed them all.

* * *

It's so stupid how what you find in one little envelope can wind up having such a massive effect on your life. Yesterday, it was test scores. Today, it's something else.

Mum's left it on the table in the kitchen for me, along with a few scribbled lines to say she's gone out with Dad for the day. She's used one of my bear shaped sticky notes, and I can't help but smile. Maybe I'll go see my grandfather and Panda today. It's been too long. I grab the envelope and flip it over, and as soon as I catch sight of the Mishima Zaibatsu's logo stamped on the reverse, I know what it is. Still doesn't stop me from almost ripping it in half in my impatience to get it open though. A scan of the letter confirms it. An invitation to the next Iron Fist tournament. Oh, and as luck would have it, the date clashes with my first semester at uni. Awesome.

I close my eyes for a second, then put the letter back in the mangled envelope and reach for the phone.

"Did you get your golden ticket this morning?" I tease Hwoarang when he finally answers.

"Yeah. Guess who else got one?"

"Who?"

"Baek. So now he keeps going on about how he probably wouldn't enter, but I obviously need supervision since I got myself arrested the first time he wasn't around to keep me in check. Thinks he's hilarious."

I laugh, getting up and wandering over to the sink to get a glass of water. He's complaining, but I know he doesn't really have a problem with the idea of Baek being there too.

"So we're gonna have to be on our best behaviour?"

"You're definitely entering, then?" He sounds way too dubious for my liking, and I feel a prickle of annoyance.

"I'm thinking about it, yeah. You never know, I might win. Besides, it's pretty impressive to get invited back for a third time, right?"

Hwo says nothing for a moment, and I peel the sticky note off the table, then press it back down. Is invitation really the right word? Invitations you can turn down. To me, it's more like a summons. It's impossible not to go.

"You heard anything from Miharu?" I ask. I tried to call her a few hours after our meeting in the park but she must have turned her phone off, and when I dropped by her house, no one was there.

"You want to see Kazama again," he says suddenly. "That's why you wanna enter, right? 'Cause of him."

"…Partly," I admit after a moment. I can't lie to him.

"Yeah. Figured." There's a coldness in his voice that wasn't there before.

"Hwo, it's not…" I trail off, pushing the envelope away. "It's not because…"

"It's not because what?"

We've never really discussed the whole Jin thing. The closest we got to it was over a month ago when I told him about everything that'd happened at Hon-Maru, and he asked me if I could get him some of whatever I'd been smoking, and then kissed me before I could act all offended. (It's become the standard Hwo way to stop an awkward conversation since we started dating.) But now, here it is again, creating a barrier between us.

"I want to see him again, yeah. 'Cause I want to know he's okay." He snorts at that, but I carry on. "Heihachi's dead. I need to know that it isn't 'cause of Jin. That what I saw in Hon-Maru was real."

"Okay," Hwo says, and I wish we were face to face, because I can't tell if he believes me or not. A visual would really help right now.

"Are you still coming over later?" I ask, uncertain.

"Sure."

* * *

When he arrives, I'm fresh from the shower, finishing off the last of the comfort chocolate I'd bought after the disaster with Miharu. Which means my hair's a frizzy mess thanks to my tendency to go overboard with the towel drying when I'm stressing about something, I've got no makeup on and I'm wearing my old off-white panda t-shirt and a pair of shorts that are coming unstitched on the hem. Talk about irresistible. And talk about Hwo choosing the totally wrong time to be half an hour earlier than he said he'd be. Usually he's half an hour _later_, so I thought I'd have a full hour to make myself look at least passably presentable. But no, here he is, sitting on my bed playing Tetris on his phone while I try and tidy up my haystack hair.

Oh well, I guess it can't be helped. Besides, he's seen me in worse states than this. Like last tournament, after my match with Violet. I remember him winding me up, then taking care of me, making me feel better. Like always.

I never want that to change.

"Hwoarang…" I sit next to him, distracting him from the game. "About before…"

"Forget it," he replies, but I press on.

"Jin told me he was gonna fight against Devil. I just… I want to believe he won."

Hwo gets up, moving towards the window.

"And what if he did?" he demands. "What happens then?" He turns to face me with an expression I've seen so many times before. I never really understood it, but that's because in the midst of the tournament, I never took the time to try. My chest tightens as it hits me how often I saw it back then, how often I hurt him.

"Nothing." He's shaking his head, but I go to him, grab his hand, refusing to let him pull away. "Nothing happens. Hwo, I don't just want to enter the tournament again to see if he's okay, I want to go because that's where _you'll_ be."

He doesn't answer, and I lace my fingers through his.

"Listen. When I'm not with you, I'm not happy. So if you're going, then you're gonna have to put up with me. If you thought you and Baek were gonna get some male bonding time in, you thought wrong."

That draws a smile from him, finally.

"What about uni?" he asks.

"Me and Miharu're supposed to be going together, so I'll wait for her to ace the exams next spring. I can defer it 'til then."

"You sure?"

Somehow, I can tell he's not just referring to the uni thing. So I let go of his hand, reach up and kiss him, deciding to show him just how sure I really am. His hands slide around my waist, mine finding their way into his hair as I nibble his lower lip gently, but it's not enough now. Just kissing him isn't enough. I need something more. My hands wander restlessly, over his chest, under his t-shirt, and when I press myself closer, he regains enough presence of mind to pull away.

"Xiao, you don't need to…" He trails off, breathing hard. "I mean… I don't want you to feel like we've gotta…"

I shake my head, leaning into him.

"I want to." My lips brush against his, heart thudding in my chest. "You do too, right?"

Hwoarang doesn't reply, but he doesn't need to. His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw to my neck, and I tilt my head a little, eyes closed, lost to everything. I'm dimly aware of us moving towards my bed, of letting him tug my top off, of his mouth on mine as he strokes my skin. Of letting him undress me, laying there in bliss as he runs his hands over me.

After a while his fingers entwine with mine and he gently tugs my hand. I sit up so we're face to face, and I want to say something but I can't speak. All I can do is stare at him. I've got a feeling I'd have a bit of trouble stringing a sentence together at this point anyway, so it's not exactly a big loss. I wrap my arms around him, slipping my hands under his t-shirt again, tracing the muscles in his back. He feels a little tense under my fingertips, but I'm not really one to talk, considering I'm trembling now. Hwoarang pulls away to look at me, a shade of concern in his expression, and I try to smile.

"Xiao, we don't have to."

I pull him close for another kiss.

"I want to, though." My voice is barely audible, a shaky whisper against his lips, and I feel him smile.

"I want to," I repeat, and he settles me back down against the pillows and moves to my side, the sheets rustling beneath us as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me against him.

"Hwo, I mean it... I'm okay."

"Alright," he murmurs. The light's starting to fade outside, the evening sun filling the room with its warm glow, and I can feel his lips on the back of my neck. My eyes close of their own accord as his hand strokes my stomach lightly before slipping lower, and I soon start to focus on how it feels to be touched rather than how nervous I am. His breath tickles my ear, and I turn and capture his mouth with mine, my tongue sliding over his.

"Uh... Xiao?"

He sounds hesitant. I gaze at him, all messed up hair and flushed face. He seems self-conscious now, and it's sort of nice, considering how he's usually way overconfident.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I've got any… um…"

"Any what?"

He blinks and looks awkward, and it dawns on me what he means.

"Oh!" I didn't even think of that, I was so lost in what was happening. "Oh. Um, well, I think I…"

I sit up, grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair and taking my wallet out of the pocket. I am _such_ a guy, carrying a condom in there.

"I-It's not like I expected to be using it tonight," I stammer, seeing the surprise on Hwoarang's face.

"Whatever you say, Xiao," he grins. "Don't worry, I don't blame you. I'd wanna do me too."

"Miharu gave it to me, remember?" I protest, flustered. I remember the payphone incident, how embarrassed I was when Christie showed up. I guess she was right in the end about me and Hwo.

"I'll have to thank her next time I see her then," he laughs, taking it from me, and I can't even imagine how weirded out she'd be if he did.

"Oh God, please don't."

"I'm joking. Now shh."

Hwo kisses me again, slow and soft, and I can't think anymore. All I can do is feel.

I don't know what I expected my first time to be like. I heard other girls talk about it at school, say that it hurt or bled or both, so to be honest I'm a little bit worried. Okay, maybe _more_ than a little, but when it finally happens, it's fine. A slight pain at first, a little bit of discomfort as he pushes further into me, and then… when he starts to move, it's okay. Not like there's fireworks going off and bells ringing or anything, but it feels nice. What feels the nicest, though, is being this close to him, feeling like everything else has fallen away and there's just us and we're all that matters. It's everything I wanted.

"Tell me if it's hurting," Hwoarang says, and I smile up at him to let him know I'm alright.

He smooths my hair away from my face, and I feel a surge of reassurance and affection when I notice his hand's shaking. The idea of _him_ being nervous never entered my head, and I probably would never have known if I hadn't seen that. I mean, this's _Hwoarang_ we're talking about here. Mr. Self-Assured. I just gaze at him in wonder, reach up and lightly touch my fingertips to his lips, and he smiles a little. It's beginning to feel so much better now I've relaxed, and I close my eyes and bury my face in his shoulder, just letting myself enjoy it, and all the sensations of warmth and closeness it gives me.

Afterwards, I curl up beside him and he wraps an arm around me, stroking my shoulder lazily. Neither of us say anything for a while, the only sounds coming from the street below my half-open window, a soft breeze rustling the curtains as it winds its way in.

"Hwo?" I say eventually.

"Yeah?"

"What was _that _supposed to be?"

"Fuck off," Hwoarang laughs, his hand coming up to give my hair a gentle tug, and then we're kissing again, and I'm just settled back against him when the sound of a car coming up the driveway has us springing apart and grabbing for our clothes. Seriously. Parents and their flawless timing, huh?

* * *

The next day dawns clear and bright, and I spend the morning doing a few light workouts to ease myself back into the pre-tournament regimen I'd followed last time. I'm not exactly focused though, 'cause I keep getting distracted by texts from Hwo, his jokey messages and my memories of yesterday making me smile. After lunch, I've just started off on the short walk to my grandfather's shrine when Miharu calls me.

"Hey," she says, sounding tired. "Look… I'm sorry I flipped on you before. And I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone or text you back until now. I know you were only trying to help, but I kinda went a bit insane. I'm sorry. It's just, we were supposed to be going together, you know? And now I can't."

I breathe a sigh of relief and smile up at the sun. Everything's gonna be alright.

"Xiao?" Mi asks. "You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. But you know what? I should be the one saying sorry."

"Why?"

"For not winning the last tournament," I grin. "I could've taken over the Mishima Zaibatsu and you could've come and worked for me, and uni wouldn't even be a factor."

"Seriously Xiao, I'm really sorry," she tells me through her laughter. "We're friends again, right?"

"Don't be silly. We were never _not_ friends."

"I'm glad," she replies, sounding like she's smiling. "I promise I won't get jealous when you make tons of new ones at uni, okay? We'll still hang out when you're not busy with school, right?"

"Don't even worry about it, Miharu," I say, the spring breeze blowing my hair around my face. Some kids zip past on their bikes, pedalling in the direction of the park, and I can hear windchimes tinkling from one of the gardens nearby. "I've got an awesome idea."

* * *

_If it's sunny tomorrow  
__I'll come and see you  
__That's right, tomorrow and the day after and forever.__  
_

_- July 1st, Ayumi Hamasaki_


End file.
